Snape's World of Pleasure
by AwstruckWriter
Summary: Snape finds himself having time alone with random people. Severus Snape/Draco Malfoy; Lucius/Severus, Lucius/Sirius and implied Lucius/Draco
1. Chapter 1

Snape looked over his potions class. They all seemed to be working steadily, for once; by sixth year, even most of the Gryffindors had achieved some level of competency. Well, except for Longbottom, of course. But even he managed not to melt his cauldron every week, by now. Even Potter and Weasley seemed to be managing, and he couldn't find any reason to take points from them.

He looked toward the Slytherins. If he couldn't take points from Gryffindor, he had better give some to his own house, lest the Malfoy brat report back to Daddy and Voldemort that his loyalty was wavering. Still a double agent, he had to walk a careful line. As much as it disgusted him sometimes.

Speaking of Draco, the boy was gazing right back at him. He held the icy blue eyes for a moment, then raised a questioning eyebrow. Did Draco have a question? Obviously not, because the boy just smirked and went back to his work. The whole exchange left Snape ill at ease for some reason though.

So he wasn't very surprised when, after class, Draco dismissed Crabbe and Goyle and sidled up to the desk. He was surprised, though, when the blond boy sat on the edge of his desk.

"Mr. Malfoy," he whispered. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Nothing, Professor," Draco purred, leaning closer. "Nothing at all."

"Then kindly remove yourself from my desk," snapped the professor. The boy was already insolent enough.

Instead of moving, however, Draco moved closer. "But I don't want to, Professor."

Snape put his quill down and looked up at the sixteen-year-old blond on his desk. "Do tell me what you're after, Malfoy. It's been a long day, and I'm tired." The Death Eater meetings were becoming more frequent, and it was becoming more and more difficult to keep up with his teaching duties after a night of kowtowing to Voldemort. He was getting too old for this.

Draco, on the other hand, looked as fresh and rested and healthy as only sixteen year old boys can. His blond hair nearly brushed his shoulders now, his silvery blue eyes were bright and his skin was perfectly flushed. His pouty little mouth, usually drawn into a sneer, was now full and decadently inviting. Snape tried to shut down those traitorous thoughts. He couldn't think this way about a student, even if that student was a perfect blond siren. One that was even more delectable than his father was. Snape shivered imperceptibly; he had a weakness for blonds. Lucius knew that; did Draco? Was this a game?

Only through years of controlling his emotions was he able to keep from gasping when Draco slid onto his lap. He managed a silky whisper. "Mr. Malfoy. What are you thinking? Get off me this instant."

Draco just smirked, wiggling around until he was straddling Snape's lap. "I'm not thinking," he whispered in the older man's ear. He slid his hips forward until Snape could feel the boy's erection against his stomach. The small blond moaned, then, and Snape's own cock started to harden against his will. Draco's hands started to fumble with the buttons to Snape's robe when he felt the older man's arousal. "I was right, you do want me," he murmured with triumph.

Want Draco Malfoy? Who wouldn't? Blond, lean, prettier than most girls in the school, and he damn well knew it; he could have anyone he wanted, male or female. Which begged the question. "Why?" Snape said tightly, holding on to the chair's arms with an iron grip. Lucius would kill him. Dumbledore would kill him.

Draco paused in his efforts to unfasten Snape's robes. He looked at him through pale lashes and bit his lip in a way that made the older man's stomach lurch. "I want you, Professor," he breathed. "I need it," he said, rocking his hips so there would be no confusion as to what it was that he wanted.

Despite Snape's control, a soft moan escaped his lips as Draco rubbed against him. "Mr. Malfoy," he said, his silky voice strained, "This is completely inappropriate," he began. He wanted to say more, but suddenly his mouth was covered by the blond boy's, and he couldn't speak. Draco's lips were soft and warm against his, and it was a supreme act of will not to respond and plunder that sweet mouth. He kept his mouth immobile, not responding to the kiss, his mind and heart racing. This couldn't be happening, Lucius' beautiful son couldn't possibly be interested in him, couldn't possibly be sitting on his lap, aroused and kissing him. Suddenly he realised that though he wasn't encouraging the kiss in any way, he also wasn't stopping it. He pulled back, trying to break the kiss, but Draco followed, kissing him still. Soon Snape's head was pressed against the back of his chair, and he had nowhere to go. He had just decided to detach his hands from their positions in order to push Draco off him when the blond's hands succeeded in delving inside his robes.

He gasped as Draco's hands expertly found his arousal, only the thin material of his trousers in the way now. The boy grasped his length through the trousers and squeezed with a perfect amount of pressure. Draco took advantage of Snape's open mouth to deepen the kiss. His tongue invaded the older man's mouth, coaxing Snape's tongue to react.

For a long moment, Snape couldn't keep his tongue from sparring with Draco's; the hand deftly touching his hard cock kept him from thinking. Finally, he remembered himself and moved his hands to Draco's waist, pushing, breaking the kiss.

He gasped for breath. Draco's blue eyes gazed back at him from inches away. "Draco!" he said, unable to bring his impressive vocabulary to bear at the moment. "We cannot..."

Draco's hand was still at work, preventing Snape from thinking clearly. "And why not? I know you slept with my father. He told me all about it, how good you were. So I decided to find out for myself. As I'm sure he intended for me to do. Why else would he tempt me so?" He leaned close, whispering in the older man's ear. "Besides, Professor," he hissed, emphasizing the title, "You don't want me to tell my father that you're disloyal, do you?"

That statement broke through the haze of desire that had been keeping Snape from resisting. He raised one hand and shoved Draco, hard, pushing the boy off his lap and onto the floor. "I will not be blackmailed by a child," he spat, shoving the chair back and standing. He looked down at the blond boy sprawled on the floor. He set his clothes in order quickly, watching as Draco climbed to his feet. "Get out." His heart was pounding; would Draco really follow through on his threat?

Draco stood, lifting his face to Snape's. But instead of the rage he expected to see, the blond boy was smiling seductively. Snape could only stand stunned as Draco said, "Nice. My father likes it rough too. I have to admit I've developed a taste for it as well. Though Daddy is never rough enough with me. Too afraid to hurt me," he went on, tucking his blond hair into place. "But, I'm stronger than I look. I bruise exquisitely," he said, pulling his collar aside proudly to show purpling marks that could only have come from fingers. "Perhaps you'll be less careful? Give me what I really need?" Draco sounded hopeful. He stepped forward and pressed himself to Snape again, grinning as he felt the man's undiminished erection.

The Potions master's head was spinning. Lucius and his son? Well, he wouldn't put it past the man, he was certainly depraved enough... and to his horror, mental images of the two blonds came to him unbidden. Draco bent over a desk, his father pounding into him, pale smooth bodies sweaty and aroused... the images should have disgusted him, but he realised with a sinking feeling that they turned him on even more. Now the boy was pressed up against him again, and he nearly couldn't think, couldn't remind himself why he couldn't just take what was being offered.

Then, rage at being so manipulated rose in him, and he pushed the boy away again, and before he could stop himself, his hand flashed and he slapped Draco across the face, hard. "I said NO," he rasped, watching as the boy stumbled back, holding his face.

Draco dropped his hand, his tongue darting out, then breaking out into a smile when he tasted blood. He had split the boy's lip, and there was a red mark on his cheekbone that would no doubt bruise. "Very good, Professor," he purred, sliding his hand down his body to rub at his obvious erection. "I knew you had it in you. You liked that, didn't you? Well, so did I." He paused, and Snape had to hold back a groan at the perfect picture of sexiness the boy made. "You can do it again. You can do it while you're fucking my tight little ass into the headboard. I love it. I want it."

The combination of Draco's perfect mouth saying those words, rubbing his arousal, and the lovely marks on his face was almost too much for Snape. How did the boy know how to get to him? Lucius, of course. The boy had undoubtedly learned everything he knew from his amoral father. He had to resist, even though he didn't even know why right now. "Get out, Draco," he growled, fists clenched.

Draco smirked up at him. "I'll go," he agreed. "But this isn't over yet, Professor." With one last lick at the injury the older man had given him, the boy left, leaving Snape aroused, confused and disgusted behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

Snape played over the events again and again in his head. Looking for his mistake. Looking for the moment he'd shown weakness.

Well, he'd been weak from the beginning, hadn't he? A virtual slave to Lucius' dark caresses, wrapped as they were in a beautiful package. Lucius Malfoy, golden god with a heart of pure blackness; there from the moment Snape's sexuality had awakened. His first fantasy, his first reality; Lucius seemed inherently to know every one of Snape's proclivities, how to make him beg senselessly. He'd taught Snape everything he knew, and though it had been years since they had been lovers, the mere thought of the man was still enough to arouse him.

As it did now. Though, this time he was safely warded in his own quarters, sat in his own sitting room, removed from the world. His erection rose, stirring within the folds of his night robe, never having completely faded from this afternoon's encounter.

Draco. Lucius' son. His image in more ways than one. Blond, beautiful, manipulative and apparently as amoral as his father. His lips burned from their kisses, and his body ached from the boy's touch. He didn't know whether to believe the boy's claims that his father touched him; but he'd seen Lucius rape, torture and kill without a second thought; what was a bit of consensual incest against that?

Lucius Malfoy was the reason Snape had joined the Death Eaters, not to follow Voldemort, truly. Yes, he thirsted for revenge against the world for the wrongs it had dealt him; but in the end it was Lucius. Tempting, cajoling, threatening only the loss of his company; Snape was a weak child. He hadn't yet grown the armour that would keep the world from hurting him further, hadn't grown the spine that had made him turn spy against the Dark Lord. He had only been 17, still stinging from his humiliation and near-death at the hands of the Gryffindors, and longing for the acceptance of the family he had never had. He didn't think of those dark days often, since he was ashamed of his weakness; he preferred to remember the day he'd come to Dumbledore and changed his allegiance. When he had come to his senses about what Voldemort was truly after. But his weakness today reminded him forcefully of the power of a Malfoy. Though he knew nothing could now sway him from the path of light, apparently his body was weak enough to consider fucking someone young enough to be his son. Thinking clearly, even now, all alone, wasn't easy; never before had he been so sorely tempted to break the trust put in him as a teacher. To say he'd never found a student attractive would be a lie; even Potter, bane of his existence, had turned his head once or twice, sweaty from the exertion of Quidditch. But to look and act on it were two vastly different things.

Thoughts of Lucius and Draco were not helping Snape rid himself of his erection; only one thing would do that. Sighing, he unbuttoned his night robe, exposing his arousal, and slid down slightly in the armchair so he could spread his legs. He ran his hand down his chest, teasing himself, as he spread them. He wore nothing underneath his night shirt, and the chill of the room cooled his overheated flesh slightly. He chided himself for his weakness even as an involuntary moan slipped out. He usually didn't indulge himself like this, but he knew he would never be able to sleep without some relief. Still, he teased himself, making himself suffer, sliding his hand slowly down past his hard length to cup his balls. He spread his legs wider, squeezing gently. He groaned as he finally moved his hand to his aching length, wrapping his fingers around it as he remembered the first time Lucius had touched him.

When he had first arrived at Hogwarts, he had been in awe of Lucius Malfoy. Because the boy, despite being the same age as him, was possessed of an air of self-confidence that he wouldn't have for many years. Lucius moved about the school as if he owned it, and surrounded himself with acolytes without even trying. Snape knew without a doubt that he would be sorted into Slytherin, and was happy that Lucius had been as well. Their beds were right next to each other and when he couldn't sleep, Snape would just stare at the sleeping Lucius. He was fascinated with him in a way he couldn't explain. His undeveloped sexuality wouldn't give him the words yet to describe what he was feeling. But it wouldn't be long.

Snape wasn't quite as good at the dark arts as his reputation insinuated, but it was true he was much more well-versed in hexes and curses than most sixth years. Lucius seemed quite impressed with this, and Snape was filled with pride every time the blond boy praised him. He wanted to make Lucius happy, and was thrilled when he sat by him in the great hall or sought him out.

Some time toward the end of his second year, Snape started having physical reactions to Lucius. If the other boy's thigh touched his at the table, he would suddenly get an erection, to his horror. The first time it happened, he almost cried, and ran out of the room. He hoped it was some strange aberration; he knew his body was going through a lot of changes. But it happened again, and again, and Snape decided he was a freak.

In third year, his first wet dream was about Lucius. When he woke up, he was left with an image of Lucius bending over him and a wet spot in his pyjama bottoms. Soon after that, every time he saw Lucius, he got hard. Since he had most every class with him, this was a problem. Snape walked around aroused for the most part of third year. He masturbated so much that he was sure the house elves were going to complain about his sheets. He got very good at silencing charms.

When the rest of the boys were talking about girls, he was fantasizing about Lucius. He did notice some of the other boys, but none were as gorgeous as Lucius to him. The blond boy got taller and more muscular from Quidditch, and Snape had to be careful when he watched him.

As much as he wanted Lucius, he had no idea how to go about it. He was clueless, just admiring the other boy and trying to hide his arousal. He was sure he was pathetic but there was nothing he could do about it.

By fifth year, he was sure he was only interested in boys, but he despaired of ever getting Lucius to notice him. The blond boy was everything he wasn't: smooth, suave, able to talk to anyone. That included girls, and they flocked to him. Snape seethed silently every time Lucius talked to a girl. He didn't really show anyone special attention, though, and that gave Snape hope. And more fantasies.

Then, one day it happened. Snape had made up an excuse to go find Lucius after Quidditch practice. He did this as often as he could, hoping for a glimpse of the smooth skin to fuel his feverish dreams. He walked in, already half hard, looking around quickly for the blond. Most of the boys were nearly dressed, and they paid very little attention to Snape. Lucius was nowhere to be seen, though, and he felt a pang of disappointment. He was just about to leave when he walked past the shower room. Through the steam he could just make out the shoulder length hair, a darker blond when wet, but still unmistakable. As if drawn by a magnet, Snape moved closer, unable to tear his eyes away. He had seen Lucius with his shirt off, but that had been the most. Now, he knew Lucius was completely naked, the water sluicing off his creamy skin with nothing to stop it caressing every inch. Snape was immediately hard as a rock, and he glanced around guiltily to make sure no one could see. He was sure people talked about him and his oddness, but they were also scared of his magical prowess. Now he realized with a start that the locker room was now completely empty save for the two of them. Snape's heart started to pound, and he wondered if he could risk having a closer look. One glimpse of Lucius' body, completely naked, could keep him happy for weeks, he was sure. Just one peek. he drifted closer to the tiled doorway of the group shower.

And stopped in his tracks.

Yes, he had imagined Lucius naked many times. In many positions. But the reality of Lucius unclothed was better than any fantasy.

The blond stood between two shower heads, both of them angled to beat down on him. His back was to Snape, his arms braced against the wall, his head down, seemingly oblivious to the world. Snape knew he shouldn't be standing here, staring, but nothing in the world could have torn his eyes away just then. He watched the water as it trailed down Lucius' back; down over defined muscles, down to the slim waist, and down over a firm ass that looked like it belonged on a Greek statue. In fact, Lucius looked just like a work of art, his body so perfect that Snape could barely breathe. He knew he should move, go, get away before the other boy knew he was there, but he couldn't. He moved closer, mesmerised. His cock throbbed, trapped in his clothes, aching like his heart.

Lucius raised his head, shaking it, and Snape started. He had to get out, he had no explanation for standing here like a voyeur. He took one step back when he heard Lucius' voice. "Severus."

Snape gasped involuntarily; he was caught. His heart pounded and his mind raced. He stepped back once more, ready to run.

"Don't go," commanded Lucius, and suddenly Snape was rooted to the spot. He held his breath as the other boy made no move to cover himself. In fact, Lucius stretched languidly under the warm spray, displaying his body even more. Snape swallowed, his mouth dry, as Lucius began to turn around.

Snape leaned against the wall, willing his eyes to stay on Lucius' face as the other boy turned around. "Lucius, I'm sorry, I."

"Are you?" smirked Lucius, making to attempt to hide his body. "I think you're enjoying the view, Severus."

Snape's mouth dropped open as Lucius smirked at him. The blond boy put his hand on his chest and started moving it down slowly. Snape's eyes followed Lucius' hand inexorably, as he was beginning to suspect that he was meant to. Down, down, over a flat glistening stomach to uncharted waters. He couldn't think of a single intelligent thing to say. He could only look, and gave in at last as Lucius dropped his hand further, to wrap around his rapidly rising cock. Lucius appeared to like an audience.

"Well, Severus?" Lucius smiled.

"W-well what?" stammered Snape, amazed he could even speak. The situation was like something out of his fantasies but he still couldn't believe it. He also couldn't take his eyes off Lucius' hand, which was now moving up and down slowly over his fully erect length.

"Do you like what you see, Severus?" purred Lucius, leaning back against the wall. He still stroked himself.

There was no way Snape could deny his feelings, as there was no way he could stop staring. "Y-yes," he breathed softly, but Lucius apparently heard.

"Come here," said Lucius, and it wasn't a request. He waved his hand and the showers stopped.

Unmindful of his clothes, Snape stepped forward into the tiled room. Steam billowed around him as Lucius stepped toward him.

They met in the center of the room. Snape stood still, hands at his sides, unsure of what to do. Lucius stood in front of him, and raised an eyebrow. Then Snape moaned as the blond started to unbutton his robes. "Relax, Severus, I won't bite." He paused. "Unless you want me to."

"Lucius," whispered Snape. "I. I've never."

"But you want to," interrupted Lucius as he pushed the other boy's robe off his shoulders.

"Merlin, yes," hissed Snape, forgetting to be nervous as the blond ran his hand over the bulge in the front of his trousers.

"So I see," smiled Lucius, and suddenly Snape felt himself shoved up against the wall. Lucius dropped to his knees in front of the dark- haired boy and Snape's trousers were around his ankles before he knew it.

Back in his study, Snape slid down in his chair, finally giving in and stroking himself as he remembered the incredible feeling of his cock disappearing into Lucius' mouth for the first time. He could still feel it, the shock and the pleasure of seeing the boy he so lusted after, naked on his knees in front of him. His hand just couldn't compare to the hot wetness of Lucius' tongue as it caressed every inch of his arousal.

Twenty years later, Snape could still remember every moment of his first sexual experience. He had had many others since, some with Lucius, but this one was burned into his libido and was a memory he returned to many times. Like now, sitting in front of the fire with legs spread and cock dripping. He stroked faster, remembering how quickly he had succumbed to Lucius' mouth, how completely he was lost right then.

And still lost; unbidden, the image of Lucius on his knees changed to Draco. The boy, kneeling before him, pink lips wrapped around his erection, and Snape gasped; desire ripped through him and he stroked faster, hips pumping his cock up into his hand brutally as he rushed headlong to his climax. He moaned out loud, lips forming Draco's name as guilt warred with passion. He spilled over his own hand, a climax more intense than any he'd given himself in years. He sagged back to the chair, knowing he was lost; enslaved again to golden hair and blue eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

Snape avoided being alone with Draco as much as he could; but as a Slytherin prefect, Draco was expected to report often to his head of house. Snape tried to always have someone else nearby, not trusting himself, or Draco, at all.

But it wasn't always possible. Draco seemed to be proficient at thinking up reasons to see him, and even when there was someone else present he pushed as much as he could. Brushing past the Potions master, one hand would graze Snape's side. Or Draco would purposefully drop something right in front of his professor, bending unnecessarily deeply to retrieve it.

And if Draco managed it so that they were alone, all bets were off.

Snape despaired at being so perfectly manipulated by a child; he alternated between feelings of lust and overwhelming rage. Draco did everything to encourage those feelings, knowing that any strong emotion could be used to his advantage. The boy would smirk, and try to goad Snape into either hitting him or kissing him; Draco didn't seem to mind which.

Still, Snape resisted by a supreme act of will. As agonizingly seductive as the boy could be, Snape still had some conscience. Just. Never mind the fact that he walked around aroused most of the time. He was a grown man. He could resist. As long as Lucius wasn't coaching his son. He wondered if Lucius knew what Draco was up to, if he'd even put him up to it. Not that Snape doubted the veracity of Draco's lust; the boy was a walking hormone and delighted in letting Snape know that he was hard, by whispered words or the briefest gesture or, if he could manage it, a brush against him. For whatever reason, Draco wanted him, and the boy, quite clearly, always got what he wanted.

Then came the day that Snape had been dreading. Whether Lucius, who had known all of Snape's proclivities at one point, had given him the idea, or whether it was due to Draco's innate seductiveness, the boy finally found the way to get to him. The one thing, above all else, that would make Snape lose control and inhibition.

It was Lucius' fault, of course. The man who had given him his first sexual experience had also helped him discover many of his eventual kinks. His proclivity for blonds, his tendency towards violent sex, and, above all, his voyeuristic streak.

From the first time that Snape had watched Lucius touch himself in the shower, he had found that nothing turned him on more than watching. Not that he didn't like to participate, but, ideally, he liked to watch his partners play with themselves for a while until he was nearly mad with desire. Lucius knew this well, and used to torment him with views of his body when he could manage it. Especially when he knew Snape could do nothing about it. Lucius would think nothing of dropping his clothes in the middle of the room and walking naked to the showers. Knowing full well that those coal black eyes would follow him wherever he went.

Of course, Lucius had to take his power over Snape to the next level, to see just how far his voyeurism went. Lucius was always testing, always stretching the limits.

"Severus," Lucius' hissing whisper roused him in the middle of the night, the blond hair brushing over him as he looked up at the other boy, straddling him in his bed.

Snape moaned softly as he could manage and arched up against Lucius, hard as a rock immediately.

Lucius chuckled and leaned down over Snape, planting one hand on either side of the boy's dark haired head and allowing Severus to rub against him. Snape moaned as he felt an answering hardness, and he reached up to touch Lucius' hair. "Want to have some fun?" Lucius asked provocatively, pressing the other boy down into the bed.

Snape could only nod, then whimper in frustration as Lucius moved lithely off the bed. "Then come on," the blond urged, and Severus could do nothing but follow, mutely.

Lucius led him to a deserted classroom, where he shoved Snape in a closet, left the door ajar and told him to be absolutely quiet. Severus was about to demand an explanation when the door opened again.

And Sirius Black walked in.

Lucius turned quickly, stalking across the room to the dark-haired Gryffindor. Snape expected him to yell, to hex Black, to demand he leave at once. He was expecting anything except what Lucius did.

He shoved Black up against the closed door and kissed him, hard.

Snape held his breath, his heart pounding and his eyes wide at the scene he was witnessing. His mouth formed a silent "no," but he made no sound at all.

He and Lucius weren't exclusive, he knew that. They hadn't even discussed what their relationship was, let alone that they couldn't see others. So this should come as no surprise. Even Severus could admit, if only to himself, that Sirius Black was an attractive boy. Long silky dark hair, toned tanned body... everything he wasn't. But to see it, in front of him, so blatantly...

The two boys kissed passionately, hands roaming, hips rocking. To Snape's horror, the expected feelings of hurt and rejection he was having didn't seemed to affect his arousal. In fact, he was even harder than before, and he realized that he was breathing hard as he peered out from his hiding place. What was wrong with him? He should be storming out, confronting the two boys, then leaving them to their tryst. Not standing here, leaning on the wall for support, one hand stealing under his robes to rub at his trapped erection. He was sicker than he had thought. Because he knew with a sinking feeling that there was no way he was moving, no way he would miss this, and that Lucius knew exactly what he was doing in here. Knew he wanted to watch. Damn him.

Lucius was busy ridding Black of his robes as quickly as possible. Snape watched as Lucius caressed every bit of the boy he could reach, and Black's head fell back when the blond wrapped a hand around his erection. "Lucius," hissed the Gryffindor, in a voice he had never heard from Black. It went right to his cock. He had never imagined Sirius Black like this, thought that the pride of Gryffindor was straight as an arrow. Black was beautiful like this, and Snape hated him and desired him at the same moment. He gave up trying to figure out his own depravity and freed his arousal just enough to stroke it roughly. He bit back his moans, hoping the other boy wouldn't notice, and the feelings were multiplied a thousandfold by the circumstances. He'd never seen anyone having sex before. Touching himself had never felt this good. He knew he was hooked.

Lucius and Black weren't wasting any time; it was quite obvious they'd done this before. Lucius shoved Black against the wall, kicking his legs apart, and Snape was stunned to see the Gryffindor submit willingly. He had a brief moment of satisfaction at the thought of the look on the other Gryffindors' faces if they could see their favorite son now; bent slightly, ass offered to his mortal enemy, a Slytherin. Then Lucius waved his wand, and opened his robes just enough to free his cock. The blond paused long enough to throw a glance toward Snape in his hiding place, as if to make sure he was watching. Snape moaned low in his throat as he pumped his cock; he couldn't have stopped watching under Imperius right now. He tried to slow his hand, to make it last, but the sight before him was almost too much for him. And Lucius knew it. He had positioned himself and Black so that Snape could see everything, watch as Lucius guided his hard length to the other boy's waiting opening, see every inch of Lucius' cock claim Sirius Black.

Snape was in heaven and hell at the same time.

He wanted. He wanted to watch, wanted to participate, wanted so badly to climax. Wanted to be the one that Lucius was driving into with a savage rhythm. Wanted to be the one moaning and screaming Lucius' name as he was split in two by the blond's thick cock. Yet he also wanted this never to end, to watch this forever, to stay on the knife edge of release, prolonging the pleasure. He wanted.

When Lucius reached around Black's body, pumping the boy's erection in time to his thrusts, Snape could no longer hold back his own climax. His own soft cries were no doubt concealed by Lucius' growls and Black's screams, and Snape gave in, relishing each pulse of pleasure, his release almost painful in its intensity.

He was hooked.

He watched in a daze as Lucius and Black cleaned themselves and the dark haired boy hurried out of the room. He couldn't move, he was drained and confused.

Lucius finally threw open the door with a smirk. "Enjoy the show, Severus?"

Snape couldn't answer; there was no use in denial, though. He hung his head and tried to arrange his clothes. Lucius pulled his head up with a finger on his chin. "You don't have to say it, I know you loved it," the seductive voice whispered. "I could feel you."

There were a million things Snape wanted to say, a thousand questions. He wanted Lucius to tell him why he had brought him there to watch. How he knew he would enjoy it. Why he hadn't been the one out there being fucked to the wall.

But he couldn't.

He just followed Lucius back to the dorm.

He was hopelessly in love with Lucius Malfoy and he would take what he could get.

Now all that came rushing back to him as he stood still with shock, unable to tear his eyes away from the vision before him.

Draco.

On his bed.

Naked.

Aroused.

Stroking his cock lazily, legs spread.

Perfect.

Disaster.

Instantly hard, his voice a shadow of its former self, it mattered not at all how the devious boy had gotten around his wards and into his private rooms. Not now. He could only murmur, hoarsely, "Get out." Before it's too late, but he didn't voice that.

"Make me," Draco answered softly, stroking faster and running a hand between his thighs. He spread his legs apart fully, exposing his hidden entrance, and opened himself with one hand.

Snape took one step toward the bed before stopping himself. How was he supposed to withstand this? His weakness? His desire? It had been too long since he'd had a lover, far too long for him to resist.

Draco saw him approach, smiling seductively. "It's ok, Professor. I won't tell anyone. Touch me, please..." the blond teen begged, and Snape was trembling from the sheer effort of resisting. Still Draco stroked himself, displaying himself for Snape.

Snape's eyes roamed helplessly over Draco's body. Perfection, golden smooth skin, long lean muscles, flushed cheeks and criminally full lips. The boy's erection was impressive for his age, glistening and wet with his need. Creamy thighs begged him to kneel between them, parted and wanton. Snape balled his fists to keep from touching: Draco, himself, anything. "No. You. Will. Leave. Now." Every word spit out with supreme effort.

Draco got up on his knees on the bed, pouting and confused. "Why? Why don't you want me?" His cock still hard in his hand, still stroking, still tempting Snape to fall.

"OUT!" screamed the Potions master, putting every ounce of resistance he had left into that command. Though his wand wasn't out, Snape was a powerful wizard and the air crackled with magic between them.

Draco's eyes widened at this display, and scrambled off the bed. He threw on the robes that had been lying on the floor and walked to the door. He stopped by Snape, looking up at his teacher. "It's not over," Draco promised, and with a small smirk the boy left.

Snape followed him, making sure that the boy was truly gone, resetting the wards to a new pattern, and throwing the metal bolt for good measure, before resting his back against the wooden door. He took a deep breath and let himself slide down, sitting on the floor for longer than he knew, trying to fathom what he had done.

And what would come next.


End file.
